friends – HandsOnDeck

The most beautiful anchorage in the World.

We waited for a good weather window and headed further south to the iconic anchorage of Hanavave – Bay of Virgins or Bay of Penis’s, which was the original name but thought a bit too racy by early missionaries – in Fatu Hiva. This is known as one (if not the) most beautiful anchorages in the World, certainly one of the most iconic, surrounded by high, jaggered hills and lush valleys.

We had a fast sail into the wind and enjoyed watching the beauty of the island come into view, anchoring in 25m, the shallowest depth we could find, and used all our chain as we found a spot beside the team on Delos (Sailing channel Youtube followers will know who they are!). Fortunately the prevailing wind is from the east, blowing down a valley at the head of the bay, so none of the other 18 boats in the anchorage swung much, which would have been messy when we all had almost 100m of scope out!

Fatu Hiva is a beautiful lush island with tree covered steep, pointed hills, the valleys rich with grapefruit, oranges, limes, bananas, star fruit, guava and mangos in the most stunning setting. Fruit grows abundantly in the wild and fish are plentiful so no one goes hungry, particularly as hunting boar or goats is also a popular pass-time. The settlement of Hanavave has a lovely relaxed feel with all the houses built around large gardens containing several fruit trees, offering to sell grapefruit or oranges, climbing the tree to pick the best fruit while we waited below, hoping they wouldn’t fall as they climbed higher in barefeet, loading ripe fruit into the fold of their teeshirt! The fruit was worth the effort with the juicy sweet grapefruit becoming a regular treat after a meal and the oranges providing a refreshing juice after a long walk.

There is a lovely walk to a waterfall, taking about 40 minutes from the dinghy dock along a poorly signed pathway. The water was brackish but refreshing as we swam under the trickle of water that cascaded from a great height above us. We visited the small town of Omoa in the south of the island. There is an anchorage here but several boats, including Delos, attempted to enter the bay, believing it would be a better, shallower anchorage but the surf was so great and the swell awful, they all returned quite swiftly to Hanavave! The town of Omoa is lovely with a large “events” centre where the biannual Island Festival takes place, with tikis donated by the visiting islands. There are some lovely Tiki’s along the waterfront and, once again, numerous houses displaying arts and crafts for sale. We visited one man who made beautiful banjos in his backyard and he demonstrated the quality of the sound while his son proudly showed us his bone carvings.

The road from Hanavave to Omoa is windy, mostly unsealed and steep with incredible views down to the anchorage. Large groves of Mango trees grow wild along the road but sadly they are not ready until June so we were a month too early to forage for the delicious harvest! Goats climbed high on cliffs along ledges that seemed like they would crumble beneath them and at night we could hear them bleating above us – I think I’d bleat too if I’d been up there in the dark!

The anchorage was busy with boats arriving and leaving each day and then the jostling for positions as some of the good spots closer to shore and in shallower water become available. We decided to move forward into a less exposed and slightly shallower spot, slowly hauling up our chain as we motored forward to keep the pressure off as our windlass winched up our scope. We had been nursing our windlass for a little while, repairing it in Panama and treating it very carefully each time we used it, but hauling up over 75m of chain was just too much for it and, after depositing all it’s oil in the chain locker, finally made it clear to us it was terminally ill. This isn’t the best news to receive when you are about to re-anchor in 17m of water but we had no choice and hoped the first attempt at anchoring would result in a firm hold, particularly as we had been told that wind gusts can get up to 60knots, so ensuring the anchor is well bedded in is essential. The bottom is quite muddy, so it did take us a while to be happy that the anchor had indeed got a good hold but we now had 75m of chain out with the knowledge we would need to pull it up by hand in a few days time! When this day came, Steve had set up a system where we could hand winch the chain from the cockpit while I hand fed the pulled up chain into the chain locker – a slow but effective method, made a little harder due to us leaving at 9pm on a moonless night, getting quite close to one boat as we worked together to haul up the anchor!

We sailed overnight to Hiva Oa, and arrived outside the entrance to the main anchorage of Atuona as dawn broke, in time to see the supply ship slip into the bay ahead of us. This meant that a number of yachts had been moved to outside the protected anchorage to allow room for the large ship, which doubles as a cruise ship, to have room to maneuver. We were returning to the anchorage to get diesel and visit the ATM, as cash is king on these islands! The only place we could anchor was to join several other boats outside the breakwater, all of whom were being bounced around in an uncomfortable mess. We only wanted to drop the anchor once, so we chose our spot carefully and I stayed on board while Steve took the dinghy and our jerry cans ashore. We could not leave there fast enough, feeling relieved when we had slowly hauled up the anchor and safely removed ourselves from the horrible anchorage. If we had arrived from a long crossing to those conditions, I think I would have wondered why we had bothered to cross the Pacific! A hot tip for others planning this trip – go to Baie Hanaiapa on the north of the island instead. A car can be hired for a few hours on the west side of the bay – last house on beach – and drive to Atuona to check in, get fuel and provision. Much more protected and a far better anchorage!

We left Hiva Oa with Freya and had a lovely fast sail to Ua-Huka, 50NM north. We were hoping to explore this beautiful looking island with incredible rock formations, but the anchorages were far to exposed for us and, after watching Freya being thrown around after they had set their anchor in one of the bays, we made the call to continue sailing to Nuku Hiva. We arrived at 11pm and were guided into the wide anchorage at Taiohae by a fellow cruiser we had been berthed next to in Shelter Bay Marina in Panama. We had ordered a new windlass from Tahiti and it was being delivered on the next supply ship in a few days time. In the meantime we could do some laundry, avail ourselves of the freshly baked baguettes and check out Nuku Hiva which, on first impressions, was equally as beautiful as the other islands we had visited. Together with our friends on Freya and Coddiewomple we walked to the head of the bay and enjoyed spectacular views of the harbour and hills beyond. The small village of Taiohae had a relaxed Polynesian vibe which I really liked with the locals cheerfully smiling and greeting you with “Kaoha” as we passed in the street. The women often wore a frangipani flower in their hair while the men were heavily tattooed and equally ready with a welcoming smile. Horses were exercised on the beach by young bareback riders who rode with elegance and expertise as they galloped the length of the sand at terrifying speed.

Each morning fishermen cleaned and gutted their catch on the quayside, throwing the entrails into the shallow waters of the harbour where sharks gathered in anticipation of an easy feed. We bought fresh tuna here for $5 a kilo – the cheapest food to buy in French Polynesia and caught in a sustainable way in local waters!

While we were waiting for the supply ship to arrive with our windlass, we sailed to Baie d’Anaho in the north of the island. We rounded the corner into the protected bay and were immediately mesmorised by the beautiful horseshoe shaped bay, surrounded by tree covered hills with a small village hidden in the trees just behind a wide sweeping beach. The village had a school and small church with horses being the main mode of transport as there were no roads and one tractor which seemed to belong to the whole village and used as needed. Everywhere was clean and well kept with well tendered gardens and horses tethered around the palm trees that lined the beach. We found a track that led us to the top of a hill and, after stopping to admire the beautiful view from the top, down to the town of Hatiheu. The path on the other side of the hill was less rugged and we walked through heavy ladened Mango trees on either side of the track.

Small cruise ships occasionally visit Hatiheu and the town seems very well set up to look after them. The streets are wide and paved, a large thatched restaurant with open sides caters for tourists, but was shut as it was a Sunday, and a large Norman looking church with two turrets, was set back in immaculate grounds and a beautiful backdrop of sun shadowed hills. But one of the most striking features of this bay were seven high, steep and jaggered outcrops of rocks that dominated the western side of the bay. They gave an impressive natural backdrop to the town, sandy beach and bay.

The anchorage was lovely and flat, which was a welcome change to the roll we had experienced on the other side of the island. Turtles occasionally popped their heads up close to us but the water clarity was not great so seeing other marine life, which we knew was there, was not possible. This could almost be the most beautiful anchorage, but The Marquesas have so many you can choose from!

On the day the supply ship was due in, we left to return to Taiohae and excitedly jumped in the dinghy as soon as we were anchored to collect our new windlass. We had only gone about 10 metres when the outboard suddenly stopped and refused to start again – very unusual for our extremely reliable motor. We rowed back to the boat and Steve started to dismantle it while a friend picked me up in his dinghy to collect our parcel and purchase some fresh fruit and vegetables.

I’ve said this before, but the cruising community are never slow at offering to help if they see a need and we were, once again, overcome with the kindness of our friends. Todd from Freya gave up hours of his time to help Steve install the windlass while Bram from Coddiewomple checked out the outboard that Steve had not been able to fix the day before. Todd and Steve had great success with the windlass which fit perfectly and sounded great, while Bram diagnosed the problem as being with our electrical coil which was not an easy fix as parts are hard to come by in The Marquesas. We looked on line and discovered that Amazon had them for US$50 so, armed with this knowledge we contacted a supplier in Tahiti knowing that flights leave Papeete for Nuku Hiva every two days. The supplier had the part in stock but were quoting US$450 for just the part and delivery would be on top of this. Needless to say we decided to wait until my son visited in a few weeks and get the part delivered to New Zealand. In the meantime we dug out our trusted old 3hp outboard and was amazed when it started first time!

Boats were starting to leave Nuku Hiva for the Tuamotus as a small weather window had developed which was only going to last a few days. We decided to forgo our planned visit to Ua-Pou, south of Nuku Hiva, and head south too, before the winds died later the next week. So, early one Saturday morning of another long weekend (there are five public holidays in The Marquesas in May), we left the beautiful shores of The Marquesas behind us and with a heavy heart, bade farewell to these special islands which I could have happily spent a few more months exploring.

The Spice Islands

Steve woke me at 5am to start my final watch of our Atlantic Crossing. The lights of Grenada sparkled in front of me as we made fast speed towards them. It was still dark and, not wanting to arrive before light, I slowed the boat down, reefing the main and then the jib, until we only had the main up as I tried to spill some speed, but it seemed Cerulean was as keen to arrive as we were!

At 8:30am we picked up a mooring buoy in Martin’s Bay, the designated waiting area for arriving yachts who were yet to clear customs and health checks. We celebrated as we turned off the engine and let the enormity of what we had achieved sink in!

As Steve inflated the dinghy, I made us a hearty breakfast using the rest of our fresh eggs, and we sat in the cockpit in the hot morning sun, looking out over the clear water to the tree covered hills that surrounded the small harbour of St George’s. There were no big highrise hotels or apartments to spoil the view, just lots of multicoloured houses that clung to the gentle slopes, surrounded by thick trees. Looking south there was a long sandy beach with a few hotels close to the shore, but not too commercial. A large cruise ship was in the port and we could see the passengers being disgorged and transported off in different directions to make the most of their one day in Grenada.

We jumped into the dinghy and headed to the Port Louis Marina, spotting a small turtle in the water as we bumped over the short waves towards the sheltered harbour. Our first stop was to get health clearance and we visited a lovely man sitting under the shade of a gazebo on the waterfront. After examining our documentation, asking for a recent PCR test (which we couldn’t supply) he stamped an official document and handed it to us. We were in a little bit of disbelief that it had been so easy to clear through and had to be told a few times that we were now able to proceed to customs and immigration, which we quickly did. They were in an office a few steps from the gazebo and, after completing a long form and handing over all the other necessary documentation including our customs clearing out papers from Mindelo, our passports were stamped, cruising permit issued for a small fee and we were free to explore Grenada!

We took the dinghy into town and walked the streets so we could get a feel for the place. It was the start of a long weekend as Monday was Grenada Independence Day so people, cars, buildings and boats were preparing for the celebrations as the locals proudly displayed their national colours of yellow, green and red. As we walked the narrow pavements, minibuses drove past beeping their horns as a way to ask whether we needed a ride – fares are a flat fee of EC$2.50pp which equates to less than US$1, to get anywhere from 1mile to 30miles along their route. The hot muggy morning soon became a wet muggy morning as we dodged rain showers which didn’t make us any cooler as the heat seemed to intensify during the day.

Over the course of the next few days a number of boats we knew arrived and our time seemed to be one long celebration of our joint achievements. We met old friends and new ones as we all shared the same realised dream with stories from our passages, advice, learnings and laughter. After a few days of sitting on a rolly mooring outside St Georges, we decided to leave the clear waters and turtles we saw each morning, and head to Prickly Bay about 8NM on the islands rugged south coast. This coastline has numerous long, protected bays and is dotted with small islands, lovely beaches and calm, clear water. In short, a boaters paradise!

We explored a few of the small protected bays along the south coast, with boats from all over the World that looked like they had been left on mooring buoys for some time. The water was turquoise, clear and warm and the white sands of the many beaches that nestled between the mangroves were empty except for an occasional shack that housed a small bar. Cruisers met there playing cards and backgammon as they sipped beers in the late afternoon heat.

Bus rides were interesting. We really felt we put our life in the hands of the driver as he sped through the narrow, bumpy roads with a van full of other trusting people. To alert him to stop, passengers either clicked their fingers or banged on the roof, at which point the driver would veer abruptly to the left and slam his foot on the brake while very loud rap music blared through the van!

I was excited to see large Frigate birds flying around the boat. They are huge birds with fork tails and 2.3m wing span. It was amazing to see them swoop around us as they hunted for food or chased other seabirds to snatch their fish from them. It may have been these magnificent birds or the less impressive, but equally fun Boobies, that unloaded on the boat and we were cleaning up their mess for days afterwards!!

Granada is known as the Spice Islands and while on a tour with new friends, we saw why. Our informative driver pointed out the many plants and trees growing wild in the forest – nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger, cocoa as well as banana, mango, French cashew (a fruit) and papaya. The law is that if fruit is hanging over public property and you can reach it, it’s yours and with over 160 different varieties of mango growing wild in Grenada you’d be unlucky to go hungry when foraging for food!

We visited a waterfall with fresh water cascading down rocks into a deep natural pool which screamed out for Steve to jump into – which he did with glee and grace, several times! On to a cocoa plantation and chocolate manufacturer where we had a tasting and short talk about the chocolate manufacturing process from nut to seed. We sucked on a cocoa seed and tasted the butter, buying lots of the delicious dark chocolate made from cocoa grown on the island by small holding farmers which made it taste even sweeter! Then on to the heart of the island – Grand Etang Lake, a crater lake in an extinct volcano and 530m above sea level. It is surrounded by thick jungle and I wish we had had more time to walk up to the crater rim but this will have to wait for another visit!

We bade farewell to our friends on Ilanda and Juliana and headed up the west side of the island, picking up a mooring buoy in a marine protected area in a bay just north of St Georges Harbour. There is an underwater sculpture park in the bay so in the morning we jumped in the warm, clear water and snorkelled over to the park. My overwhelming feeling was great sadness at seeing so much dead coral. In fact there was no coral left, just the skeletons of a once majestic living organism lay below us with a few colourful fish darting through the water. As a large tourist boat arrived to disgorge their swimmers, we swam back to the boat, had breakfast and sailed north to the small island of Carriacou or more precisely to the small, beautiful, tropical paradise of Sandy Island. This little island consists of a beautiful fine white sand beach, palm trees and the clearest blue water you can imagine. It is the scene used to sell tropical destinations that commuters stare at while riding the tube to work on a dreary day and here we were sitting on our boat, looking at the reality of the tropical paradise. It felt good, although it was incredibly windy so the only movement between boats were the pelicans who were blown off course and landed on our bow, the Boobies who made some clumsy attempts to dive in to catch fish which resulted in a bird equivalent of a belly flop and the odd turtle that poked its head above the turquoise waters for a short while before diving again. It was a magical place and we stayed for two nights until the wind dropped and we headed into the main harbour on Carriacou, Tyrell Bay to explore a little of the island.

Since arriving in The Caribbean we have been making plans for where we could spend the hurricane season which starts on 1 June and covers an area from Grenada in the South to South Carolina, USA in the North. If there is a named storm in this region between 1 June to 30 November, our insurance will not cover any loss or damage we may incur, so if we stay within this belt we must be able to move out of harms way quickly. The last time Grenada was hit by a hurricane was in 2004 so it’s a place lots of cruisers head to as it is easy to sail further south should a storm be forecast. We have some big projects to undertake on the boat so have been gathering names of prospective people who may be able to do the work. It became clear that we needed to meet these people and let them see the boat so we could get a proper quote, so the decision was made to head back to mainland Grenada while we had the opportunity. After spending four glorious days in Carriacou, we retraced our route and returned to the main island to meet with tradesmen, wash the boat and gather our thoughts!

Our last few days in Grenada were spent socialising, doing boat jobs, meeting tradesmen, swimming and getting the boat ready for when we collect our first visitor in a few days time. For now, we are checked out to leave this beautiful island and have negative covid tests which will allow us entry into other islands. When we checked into Grenada a few weeks earlier, the health officer said to us, “A word of warning, Grenada is a big magnet. Once you have been here, you will be drawn back!” He was not wrong. This is still a virtually unspoilt paradise with lovely people, protected anchorages and good sailing. We are already making plans to return here and spend more time exploring. For now, we will sail the 300 miles to Antigua where we will collect a friend and explore a different part of the Caribbean together.

In, out, shake it all about

Life living on board a boat tends to go in ebbs and flows. Some days are relaxed when we can enjoy exploring new places; a few days are filled with elation when we manage to complete jobs which may have taken a few attempts to complete; others are filled with frustration when, despite endless research and planning, nothing goes to plan, some are very social when we meet new people, or old friends visit and finally a few days are stressful as we might be “sailing in unchartered waters” and need to repair/work out how to do things on our own or enter new, unfamiliar harbours. Fortunately, at the moment we have an army of experienced and knowledgeable people on hand who can help us with the latter while we get on with the former!

After a few days sheltering from some strong Easterly winds up the beautiful Truro River, waiting to find out what the next move was on fixing our prop, Richard (our trusted electrician and master of all trades), secured us a place at Pendennis Marina in the centre of Falmouth. We had a number of jobs to complete left over from before we launched and a couple of niggly issues that needed to be resolved.

Billy, our go-to marine electronics guy, visited us when we arrived to try and work out why our depth sounder kept losing signal – an annoying and dangerous trait we needed to get fixed as it seemed to happen at the worst possible times leaving us to guess the actual depth which is not an ideal situation, especially considering my recent history! In addition to this, we had Roy visit us to service our fire extinguishers. Roy was wonderful and came up with some good alternative solutions for our engine bay automatic extinguishers which saved us a substantial amount of money while increasing the range of the extinguishers if there was a fire.

Richard rode in on his white steed (read “van”) on Friday afternoon and set about completing the short, but essential, list of electrical jobs we had identified. Three days later we helped Richard pack up his tools after he completed the list of essential tasks, including fixing the watermaker (elation) which turned out to be a very lucky find as a couple of wires were arcing and a fuse had become so hot it had started melting, and finish wiring/installing our final solar panel. With everything now working as it should, we decided to remain in the marina for a couple of extra nights as strong winds were forecast and it seemed pointless having a few stressful nights on anchor when we had the opportunity of a protected, safe berth.

Cafes and bars with outside seating opened in mid-April and Falmouth was seeing an increasing number of visitors. We met some friends (social), Helen and Mick, who were visiting their daughter in Falmouth over the early Spring Bank Holiday weekend; invited William and Louise (social) over to the boat for coffee and caught up with Bea and Andy for a drink in a nearby bar. While in town Steve managed to buy a particular Cornish pasty he had been hankering after from our local café, after several earlier failed attempts as we had arrived too late and they had already sold out. We called in early and, much to Steve’s hungry joy, found there was one still available. I could almost see his mouth dripping with anticipation at the thought of devouring this much looked forward to pasty. We started walking back to the boat with Steve eating the pasty which was happily living up to his expectations. He was about to take a bite from the remaining half when a large seagull suddenly appeared from behind him, swooped down and with incredible accuracy, took the rest of the pasty, just as Steve was about to bite down on it – all done with such precision and so fast, the gull did not even touch Steve in the process!

Bea and Andy invited us for dinner on our last night in the marina. We had a lovely evening together with lots of conversation, laughter, good food, great company and maybe a little drink or two! Our times together are always so special and I have loved and valued the long winter we have spent with them both. Their company, patience and love has been wonderful and we feel humbled by their generosity. This was almost certainly the last time we will spend a full night with them on this trip and the thought of not knowing if/when we will share such special times with them again makes my heart lurch and throat ache. Bea and Andy have sold their boat and bought a mobile home so they can visit their daughter and grandchildren in Northern Ireland as well as hopefully head to Europe in the middle of May.

Big winds continued to buffer the Cornish coastline so we returned to our previous bolthole up the River Truro while we waited to be notified of our next haul out date. We had been in touch with the owners of the sister boat to Cerulean called Shadowfax who were visiting Falmouth. We made our way up the river and dropped anchor next to them before catching up with Tim and Emmie on board Cerulean (more social). It was lovely to meet them as we had been in touch with each other for over a year and we had followed and listened to their exciting sailing adventures to far off places in their lovely boat. The two boats have the same layout but, because Seastreams were privately commissioned, each boat has a very different feel and design features. Tim flew his drone and took some wonderful pictures of our boats sharing a beautiful anchorage. The next day we were joined by Remi, another Seastream 43 but this time a MK2 so a little older and a ketch (two masts). It was a privilege to have the three boats together for the first time and share experiences, hear sailing plans and learn more about these wonderful boats.

One day, while Steve and I sheltered from the cold rain and wind we heard a twang and then thud outside. A strange noise on a boat always puts you in high alert and I spun around to see two red webbed feet sticking up on the deck. A duck had tried flying through our rigging and must have mistimed his flight, hitting the starboard shroud with a twang and hitting the deck with a huge thud. Sadly it did not survive the experience and we now had a dead duck bleeding on the deck! We were in a quandary – as we don’t eat meat any more and couldn’t deal with the gutting and plucking of a (still warm) dead duck, do we keep it and offer it to someone else or give it a burial at sea? Before I could decide, Steve threw the recently deceased mallard into the water and we watched it float away! A short while later, when retelling the story, we regretted the decision as several people would have been keen of the gift of the beautiful bird.

Our first, multi-staying guests arrived in early May and we welcomed Marion and Suzanne on board (more social) as we collected them from Port Pendennis Marina. I shared a house with Suz and Marion in Cambridge in the early 80’s and Steve and I had travelled back to the UK 18 months earlier for Suz’s 60^th birthday celebrations. Knowing the weather was going to be bad for the next couple of days, we took advantage of the light winds and sailed up the Truro River. Suz and Marion had taken the train from London and we were all excited at being able to spend four days on the boat – the longest time we’ve had together for nearly 40 years! The weather forecast was accurate and during the night the heavens opened, the temperature dropped and the wind spun us around in our sheltered anchorage, keeping the four of us hunkered down in the cabin together. Unfortunately Marion became more and more unwell and we all became extremely concerned about her as her temperature sore and she was obviously not her normal happy self. The next day, with Marion still not well, we headed back to Falmouth and picked up a mooring close to the town centre so, if needed we could seek medical help. Suz, Steve and I were able to get off the boat, leaving Marion to rest while we went for a walk.

Suz and Marion’s stay was extended by two days due to all trains being cancelled on the GWR line which covers SW England long distance travel. This was a bonus for several reasons – more time together, Marion could continue recovering from her bug (not Covid!) and we could enjoy the improved weather and sail to other bays. When they left us after six days together, it was with sadness but also happy in the knowledge they had experienced a taste of what our life is like living on anchor.

While Suz and Marion were with us, we were hauled out for the third time to try and discover why the engine was not performing as we would expect. Just before we were due to relaunch we managed to talk to a very informative man at Darglow, the manufacturer of our propeller. He informed us that we had the wrong gearbox ratio and our current propeller was too big for the gearbox on the new engine. As we launched I was still talking to the technician on the phone and passed this information on to the engineer who had installed the new engine. Fortunately, after an initial stressful and upsetting time letting the discovery sink in, it was agreed they would cover the cost of a new gearbox and haul us out again to fix the problem.

After spending a lovely final evening in the company of Bea and Andy and Louise and William we were lifted again for what, we hoped, was the final time before leaving the UK a few weeks later. In the last 12 months we have been lifted out the water five times, which is four times more than most other boats, so our hopes were high that this time everything would go smoothly. Oh, how naive we were!!!!